


moonlit night

by lorilanda



Category: Durarara!!
Genre: Alternate Universe - Afterlife, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Izaya Being Izaya (Durarara!!), M/M, Slow Burn, Updates Fridays, celty is Done with everything, death parade au, technically, the holy tag, there's a lot of jazz in this, you don't need to know death parade to read this fic but i'd recommend it
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-04
Updated: 2021-02-27
Packaged: 2021-03-07 23:34:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 13,937
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26825947
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lorilanda/pseuds/lorilanda
Summary: The first thing Shizuo notices is that the new guest has frail bones and too dark eyes. The second is that his memories are missing.Shizuo is the judge, jury and executioner in a bar beyond life. Izaya is searching for the memories he once lost. And while death may not be the end, time will never be on their side.
Relationships: Heiwajima Shizuo/Orihara Izaya, Orihara Izaya & Celty Sturluson
Comments: 41
Kudos: 70





	1. primus

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i wrote this when i was fifteen and now, three years later, i decided to rewrite it (in english, this time!!). sit down, this is gonna be a rollercoaster.
> 
> if you want to listen to septuaginta's constant background music, [here](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=WhgKyIxjHNo) are four hours of jazz <3

The first thing Shizuo notices is that the new guest has frail bones and too dark eyes. The second is that his memories are missing.

Whoever is standing in front of him can’t be older than twenty. He has dark hair and a jacket three sizes too big for him, he cautiously looks around and when he speaks, he snarls more than he talks. “Where am I?”

There’s a beat of silence in which Shizuo tries to sort his own thoughts before he answers. “Welcome to Septuaginta. You’re the new guest. Sit down.”

The stranger looks around the observatory, blinking eyes darting rapidly from one thing to another. Shizuo has spent centuries in this bar and has long since accommodated to it, but he knows what the observatory must look like to someone who has never seen it before: dark walls and a glass dome that eventually dissolves into a night sky, dimmed lights and climbing plants that occupy every corner of the bar. A small waterfall, glowing faintly, burbles in a corner and a pitch-black piano plays soft jazz in the background with no pianist. It’s beautiful but terrifying.

“Why should I?”

Shizuo sighs, walks behind the bar in the observatory's center and starts taking alcohol from the shelves. “I’ve never killed anyone before and I won’t start now. Sit down.”

Slowly, like he wants to make sure he can still leave at any moment, the stranger takes a seat. His arms are resting on the dark wood, fingertips trailing over the patterns and stones engraved in it. Shizuo sets down a drink in front of him: bright blue like the waterfall, two ice cubes, one mint leaf. The stranger doesn’t touch it.

Finally, Shizuo sighs. “You. What’s your name?”

The stranger holds his stare for a moment before he replies. “Orihara Izaya,” he says and sounds more like he’s telling a particularly funny joke than his name. “Why, are you going to tell me yours?”

Shizuo ignores him. “Orihara Izaya,” he says. “Do you remember anything from before you arrived here?”

His eyes narrow immediately. “And why should I tell you that?”

“Do you?”

The stranger -- _Izaya_ \-- looks at him, eyes half-closed like a snake preparing to attack. Instead of answering, he asks, "I'm dead, aren't I?"

All air leaves Shizuo's lungs. _This was not supposed to happen._ "What did you just say?"

"I'm dead. Someone stabbed a knife into my stomach sixteen times. Nobody can survive something like that, Mr. Barkeeper.”

Shizuo finally catches himself. Something must have gone wrong, and he needs to find out what. But before that, he has to solve the matter at hand. “Do you remember anything else?”

“So it’s true.” Izaya doesn’t look shocked or surprised, just grimly delighted. “And is that supposed to be a trick question? I don’t remember anything.”

 _Take a deep breath_ , Shizuo tells himself. _Just because Management fucked up doesn’t mean you’ll have to deal with this. It’s not your problem to deal with. It’s not your problem to deal with._

He glares at Izaya. “Stay right here,” he says. “Don’t do anything stupid, I’ll be back in a moment.” Before he can see Izaya’s reaction, he turns around and walks to the secret door right next to the entrance, enters the passcode he so decidedly keeps hidden and enters, pretending not to notice Izaya’s burning stare on his back.

Behind the door lies a telephone, old-fashioned and partially gilded. He picks up the receiver and dials a number. _Pick up,_ he silently prays. _C’mon, just pick up._

Finally, after the fifth ring, there’s a click on the other end of the line and a puzzled woman’s voice asks, “Shizuo?”

“Celty, thank god.” Shizuo exhales in relief. “I almost thought you wouldn’t pick up. I’ve got a problem here.”

He can imagine her brows furrowing at his words. “What happened?”

“There’s a guest here. He-- doesn’t have memories. And he remembers that he died.”

Celty inhales sharply. “What?”

“You heard me.”

She must be pinching the bridge of her nose right now -- it’s funny to imagine a Dullahan do that, head carried in her arm, but Shizuo isn’t in the mood for jokes right now. “Okay,” she finally says. “Someone probably made a mistake in sorting the memories, it happens from time to time, but -- Sorry Shizuo, there will be new guests arriving at Septuaginta in a few minutes. Everyone is overworked right now, but I’ll try to stop by later and sort this whole mess out. Until then, please take care of that guest and the new arrivals.”

New guests are the last thing Shizuo needs right now, but he can’t exactly say no to his manager either. He sighs. “Fine. I’ll see what I can do.”

“Thank you, Shizuo. Saki will send someone to you in a moment.”

Another click and the call is ended, just like that. Celty must be really busy right now, if she doesn’t even take the time to say goodbye. Shizuo briefly puts his hand over his face and squeezes his eyes shut before exhaling sharply and opening them again. No matter how tired he feels, he has work to do. And he has a feeling that _work_ won’t be easy to deal with.

Izaya waits for him with raised eyebrows and the ghost of a smirk when Shizuo gets back. Before Izaya can say anything, Shizuo says, “There are new guests arriving in a few moments, so I don’t have time for you right now. Follow me.”

The smile on Izaya’s face turns from provoking to pissed off in a flash. “Why should I? You didn’t really give me a reason to trust you so far, Mr. Barkeeper.”

Shizuo has to hold himself back from turning the observatory’s marble decorations into dust with a single touch. “You piss me off,” he says. “Just shut up and come with me.”

“Oh, it’s that easy?” A taunting smile. “That’s cute. Why should I come with you?”

Shizuo is really gonna destroy something now. Maybe Izaya’s bones. But if he ever wants to solve this, he needs to stay professional, so he settles for a deadly glare. “If you do what I say, I’ll explain what is going on with this place,” he finally offers. “If you don’t, I have other ways to make sure you don’t cause trouble.”

Izaya raises his eyebrows at that, but sighs dramatically. “Well, if you’re blackmailing me, I guess I don’t have another choice.” Finally, Izaya gets up, hands shoved in his pockets and a lazy smile tugging on the corners of his mouth. The scared, almost terrified behaviour from before is long gone by now. This Izaya looks like he’s already used to death and foreign bars, like he’s taken one long look at it and decided _yes, this is going to be my new playground now_. Shizuo suddenly has a very bad feeling about this.

He frowns and turns on his heel. “Come on,” he says impatiently. “We don’t have much time, I’ll tell you on the way.”

“Let’s go, then,” Izaya says. “Tell me about this bar of yours.”

Shizuo takes a deep breath. “This place is called Septuaginta,” he starts. How do you even tell somebody about the afterlife if they have died just moments ago and you don’t remember a life before this? “It’s a place dead souls go to after they die.”

Izaya hums. “Septuaginta, because it’s the seventy-fifth of its kind?”

That makes him blink. Nobody has ever commented on that before. “Mainly because it’s on the seventy-fifth floor, but yes,” he slowly says, impressed against his will. “Guests will arrive here to be judged by Arbiters -- barkeepers, people like me. We make sure that everyone will either be reincarnated or be pushed into the void, depending on how they lived.”

“You call them guests?” Provocation is dripping like honey from Izaya’s voice. “You didn’t exactly treat _me_ like a guest.”

“Usually, guests don’t remember their death.”

There’s that smile again, the one that makes Shizuo want to hit his head against a wall. Or Izaya’s head, preferably. “What, so does that make me a special case?”

“ _Anyways_ , Memories must have made a mistake. They’re gonna solve it soon and you will finally disappear like every other guest.”

If Izaya feels threatened by being confronted with his inevitable end, he doesn’t show it. Instead, his eyes light dangerously up like Shizuo is just a challenge he has to overcome. “Let me watch.”

Shizuo stops dead in his tracks to look at him. “What?”

“You heard me. Let me watch the trial. I want to see what it’s like.”

“Why should I? You’re just gonna cause trouble, you goddamn flea.”

“Try to see it the other way around,” Izaya drawls. “If you don’t let me watch, I’ll definitely wreak havoc. I might even interfere with your precious judgement. Do you really want that?”

Clenched teeth. _Don’t let him get to you. He’s trying to annoy you on purpose._ Shizuo exhales. 

“Fine. Promise you won’t do anything except silently watch the whole thing.”

“Promised,” Izaya answers immediately. Almost too fast, like a practised reply. He must be serious about this.

Shizuo drags him to a small stairway that leads to a balcony, hidden in the darkness of the dome. “Go up there,” he says. “You can watch from there without being seen. One step outside that balcony and I’ll drop you into the void without hesitation. Got it?”

“Got it.” Before Shizuo can do as much as turn away, Izaya adds: “One last thing.”

Shizuo groans. “What.”

“What's your name? Or am I supposed to call you Mr. Barkeeper forever?”

“..It's Shizuo.” It's been a long time since someone asked him that.

“Shizuo, huh? A befitting name for a monster.”

“I'm not a monster,” Shizuo snaps. Izaya doesn't look convinced. 

"I don't know - you are a barkeeper in the afterworld and threaten to kill me without hesitation, Shizu-chan. Can I call you Shizu-chan?”

“No.”

“Anyway, that doesn't sound very human if you ask me.”

“Shut the fuck up.” Shizuo’s patience has reached its limits long ago. Everything beyond it is just mercy. “You're gonna walk up those stairs now, there's a balcony from where you can watch. You make _one_ sound and I’m going to slowly strangle you to death.”

Izaya whistles. “So cruel, Shizu-chan. Anyway, that was a compliment. Learn to take it.”

Shizuo turns around and leaves before he can actually strangle Izaya, leaving him quietly cackling behind. He doesn’t know how he’s supposed to survive any more encounters with this goddamn _maniac_ of a person if he keeps being like that.

In that moment, the elevator pings quietly and soon, he is occupied by other things as the memories of the dead violently flood his mind and his pupils twist in an attempt to process the information. The elevator doors slowly open and a man and a woman walk out. They don't seem scared yet, just curious as they look at the observatory’s dome with wide eyes. They haven’t noticed him yet.

Maybe that’s what Shizuo needs right now. He’s almost looking forward to this trial. A smirk hushes over his lips as he bows politely. 

“Welcome to Septuaginta.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> follow me on [twitter](twitter.com/neonlightism)
> 
> a huge thank you to @noteinabottle who beta read this chapter!


	2. secundus

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ohmygod i had this chapter and the next two sitting in my drafts for eternity and completely forgot about them - BUT it's published now and the next few chapters are almost done :)
> 
> thank you @noteinabottle for being a saint and betaing again!

“Goodbye. Have a safe journey.”

The elevator doors close with a hiss. The cabins rumble and screech, dropping downwards with ever increasing speed, before they’re replaced by an eerie silence. Shizuo glances up at the identical devil’s masks over the doors and sighs.

The man wasn’t a surprise - he had acted antagonistic from the beginning, willing to hurt others just to get out of this situation. But the timid woman had been a surprise. The longer the game dragged on, the more awful parts of her personality had started to show.

 _Well, can’t be helped._ He sighs and lights himself a cigarette before turning away. Even after the judgement was over, he still had to take care of-

“Well done, Shizu-chan. So professional, too - I almost wouldn’t have recognised the man who yelled at me before.”

_Izaya._

“What the fuck are you doing here?” Shizuo hisses. “We had an agreement - you stay up there and watch _from afar_ , and don’t set a goddamn foot outside. What would have happened if they saw you?”

“This place is weird enough for the appearance of another person not to really matter,” Izaya counters. “And besides, Shizu-chan, the judgement was so _fascinating_ to watch. How could I have stayed away?”

“You-” Shizuo stops dead in his tracks and almost drops his cigarette. “You think that watching judgements is fascinating?”

Izaya stares at him with dark red eyes and a smirk. “Of course. Don’t you think so?”

“You’re crazy.” Shizuo turns away from him. “I knew that you’re crazy but apparently you’re also a sadistic bastard. I really shouldn’t be surprised.”

Izaya flashes him a brilliant grin and doesn’t say anything.

In the silence, the telephone suddenly rings. They both flinch at the sudden sound. 

“Stay right here,” Shizuo threatens. “This time, I won’t be so nice. Judgement be damned, if you try anything, I’m gonna send you straight to hell.”

Izaya laughs. “So violent, Shizu-chan. Don’t worry, I’ll be right here.”

Shizuo marches over to the telephone booth and picks up the receiver. “Septuaginta.”

“ _Shizuo. Shinra told me that your guests are gone, so I’d like to come over for a second. To talk about the situation at hand._ ” He doesn’t have to ask what she means.

“Sure.” He takes a long drag from his cigarette and watches how the smoke dissolves in the air before him. “Did you find a solution yet?”

“ _It’s… complicated._ ” Celty doesn’t elaborate. “ _But in a way, yes. Let’s talk about this once I’m here, alright? It won’t take long._ ”

“Okay. Take care, see you soon.” He puts the receiver back without waiting for an answer and sighs. If he’s lucky enough, Celty will have found a way to deal with the mess of a situation that Izaya is, and Shizuo will never have to see him again.

He returns to where Izaya, true to his promise, is still leaning against a bar stool. “Celty - my manager - will come by in a moment. She’ll have a solution for this whole situation, and then you’ll be judged properly.”

“Aw, do you really want to get rid of me that badly?” Izaya seems to enjoy this situation, somehow. Shizuo really doesn’t want to know what is happening in his head.

“Yes.” Shizuo wants to add something - some sort of profanity, to put his frustration into words - but the sound of metal steps on floor tiles shuts him up. “ _Behave_ ,” he hisses and barely manages to turn around before Celty walks around the corner.

She’s an intimidating figure when seen for the first time - even Izaya seems to shut up momentarily when she enters the room. Celty is tall, clad in pitch-black armour that doesn’t make a sound, and she carries her head in her arm. Her eyes are closed, but Shizuo knows that she can still see everything that happens. She doesn’t need her eyes for that.

“Celty.” He nods shortly, a greeting, and the head turns towards Shizuo. No matter how many times he sees it, it’s still creepy. 

“Shizuo. Good to see you.” She turns towards Izaya. “I suppose that this is the human you were talking about?”

“Wow, another monster.” Izaya bows sarcastically. “It’s an honor to meet you.”

The mist around Celty’s neck grows dark. “Remember who you are talking to, _human_ ,” she hisses. “Don’t forget your place.”

If Izaya is intimidated, he doesn’t show it, just shrugs with a smile. “As you say. I’ll let you two monsters talk - I’ll be over there somewhere.” He strolls far enough away to give them the safety of not being heard, until he disappears somewhere on the other end of the Observatory. God knows what he’ll do there, but Shizuo has to focus on other things right now.

“So,” he says once Izaya is far enough away. “What do you think?”

Celty sighs and pulls a bar stool close to sit on it. “It’s difficult,” she says. She sounds tired. “Technically, this whole thing shouldn’t be a problem. His memories just have to be sent back to the factory and get reworked. Afterwards, he won’t remember being here and you or another Arbiter can judge him just as usual. The problem is that we’re, as you surely know, terribly understaffed right now. It’s not only the Arbiters, but the memory workers too - nobody really has any free time for that at the moment. We’re trying to recruit new ones, but…”

Shizuo doesn’t need for her to continue that sentence, because he already knows how it will end. “But they’re difficult to find,” he finishes it for her. “I know. Don’t stress yourself over it, I-” he sighs. “I’ll find a way to deal with him until someone can take care of that, alright?”

It’s the last thing he wants, but it’s also pretty much the only option he has right now. Celty might be an immortal being, but she isn’t omnipotent, and she has already enough on her plate as it is. The last thing Shizuo wants is to burn her out.

“You’re okay with that?” Celty sounds doubtful. “Even when he’s like… that?”

Sadly, Shizuo knows exactly what she means. “I’ll be okay,” he still promises. “I’ll manage, somehow.”

Celty sighs. “If you’re sure. I’ll try to rework his memories as soon as I can, alright? You can do it, fingers crossed.” She stands up and turns to leave. “Tell me if you need anything, alright? I’ll try to help you if I can.”

“Thanks.” Shizuo gives her a small smile. “Don’t overwork yourself, alright?”

She pretends not to hear that part. “I’ll be taking my leave now. Take care, Shizuo.”

“You too.” He listens to her leave, the sound of metal shoes on the Observatory’s black tiles, and waits until after she’s disappeared into the shadows to find Izaya.

Izaya, as it appears, actually didn’t listen to their conversation. Shizuo doesn’t know if it’s because he found it too boring or if he wanted to genuinely be respectful - he’s leaning towards the first option - but Shizuo finds him next to the piano, playing small, random melodies on the pitch-black keys that blend in surprisingly well with the Observatory’s constant background music. When he hears Shizuo approaching, he lifts his head. “Done talking?”

Shizuo gives a brief overview over what he and Celty discussed. Izaya’s shit-eating grin grows with every word. “So what you’re saying is that you’ll be stuck with me for a while?”

Take a deep breath. Try not to strangle Izaya. “Yes, exactly that.”

“Alright.” Shizuo lifts his head at that - he shouldn’t really be surprised, not by the way Izaya has been acting around the Observatory until now, but there’s still something surprising in how easily he agrees. “Under one condition.”

Shizuo sighs. There it is. One of his eyelids twitches. “You do know that I’m the one who makes the rules around here, right? I’m literally the harbinger of death and everything.”

Izaya pretends not to hear Shizuo. “Let me keep watching the judgements. Not from up there where there’s nothing to see - from down here.”

He thinks about it. On one hand, letting Izaya roam around the Observatory freely might lead to less-than-ideal results, and if Shizuo fucks up a judgement, no matter if Izaya caused it or not, he might get a permanent demotion. Nobody wants that, least of all Shizuo himself, who made himself comfortable on this floor and doesn’t have any intention of leaving it anytime soon.

On the other hand, though… While Izaya _is_ a terrible annoyance, who will purposely cause as many problems as he possibly can to entertain himself, Shizuo has a feeling that if he gets what he wants, he won’t do anything to interfere. And where better to keep an eye on him to make sure he doesn’t do anything stupid than right next to Shizuo?

“Fine.” He sighs. “But you have one chance. Fuck it up, and I’ll banish you into the Void without further judgement. Got it?”

A smile spreads on Izaya’s lips. It almost looks genuine. “Got it. I’ll behave, don’t worry.”

“Good.” Shizuo walks over to the bar and takes out the remnants of yesterday’s dinner. They might be Arbiters and work beyond life and death, but even Arbiters still have to eat. Izaya sits down on one of the bar stools, bony elbows on the counter, and watches him.

“You’re cooking? How domestic.” Izaya’s eyes glitter tauntingly. “Who would have thought, with a monster like you?”

Shizuo frowns. “Even Arbiters have to eat, you know.”

“Do they? Well, anyway, it’s just a surprise, you know? That someone like you has an interest in such… trivial things.”

“What the fuck is that supposed to mean,” Shizuo says and puts the dish into the oven. It’s some sort of quiche he found a recipe for recently - easy to make and enough to keep for a few days. Or to feed two people. 

“Nothing, nothing.” Izaya’s smile is unreadable, but Shizuo has already gotten used to that. 

“Yeah, sure,” he grumbles and waits impatiently for the oven to do its thing. “Can’t you cook?” 

“Not exactly.” Izaya shrugs as if it was a skill like playing the piano or manipulating people into doing his bidding - nice to have, but not crucial. “Never saw the great use in learning it. I made enough money to be able to get takeout, so why cook by myself? It only makes a mess.”

The oven has done its thing, so Shizuo takes out the glass form and sets it on the counter. Izaya looks at him expectantly, so he clenches his teeth and cuts out a slice and sets the plate down before Izaya. Goddammit, it took only half a day for him to start being manipulated. He doesn’t want to imagine how this will continue.

Izaya takes a bite and - he has never heard of table manners, apparently, not that Shizuo is surprised - continues to talk. “So, you’re an Arbiter in a bar beyond life and death and you play games to judge people, bla, bla, bla. But tell me - why are you doing this?”

Shizuo blinks, the hand that’s been putting a slice on his own plate frozen momentarily before he catches himself and sits down on the other side of the bar. “You mean-”

“All of you Arbiters, stuck here in the afterlife forever. There’s got to be a reason, hasn’t it?”

Truth be told, Shizuo didn’t remember anything from before he became an Arbiter. There’s a rumor running around their line of work, that every Arbiter had once been a person cast into the Void, but there’s no way to confirm it - not with their memories dead and gone. By now, like most other Arbiters, he does this job because it’s better than other ones and because he doesn’t know what else he would do. What happens to Arbiters who quit? They don’t just move jobs, and anyways, he isn’t keen on either being pushed into the Void or reincarnating on earth as a regular human. But he sure as hell isn’t gonna tell Izaya that.

“Who knows?” He shrugs. “It’s nothing you gotta concern yourself with, anyway. None of your business. You’re just a guest.”

The look in Izaya’s eyes says _And what if it is my business after all?_ Shizuo doesn’t like that look - it promises too much trouble.

In a bit, that proves to be exactly right.


	3. tertius

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Two new guests arrive.

The next day starts slow. Shizuo, who doesn’t have to sleep, is polishing glasses when Izaya walks down the staircases on the side of the observatory that lead to his temporary room. He sports a yawn that’s mainly for show and settles down in one of the bar stools - a different one than yesterday - and watches Shizuo work.

“Mornin’,” Shizuo greets him without looking up.

“Is it?” Izaya laughs. “ _Mornin’_ to you too, Shizu-chan. Any idea who we’ll be sending to the void today?

Shizuo takes his time to finish polishing the glass before he carefully sets it down. “It’s not set yet if they’ll even go to the void. Not everyone’s personality is as rotten as yours.”

Izaya flashes him a charming grin. “Wow, starting with compliments at this hour already? What’s next, you call me sweetheart?”

“The day I’m gonna call you sweetheart is the day I’ll jump into the void myself,” Shizuo declares darkly at the same time that a voice appears in his ear.

_New guests approaching. Estimated time of arrival, two minutes. Memories being sent now._

Izaya says something that Shizuo can’t hear over the flood of memories that suddenly wash over him. Receiving a guest’s past is always weird, and even after thousands of trials, he still hasn’t quite gotten used to it. 

“Shut up,” he says and tries to make sense of the fragments flickering around in his head. “New guests are arriving in a moment.”

“Oh?” Izaya raises his eyebrows and stares at the entrance. “Any idea on who they are?”

Shizuo has several - memories do that to you - but he doesn’t want to explain, so he just shrugs. “You’ll have to wait and see for yourself.”

Not even a minute later, footsteps hall through the entrance. A woman in her fifties and a small boy. Shizuo feels a sharp sting of pity when he sees the boy; he can’t have been older than ten or eleven when his parent’s car hit the guard railing and burst into flames.

“Who are you?” the woman asks. Her voice bears no sign of aggression yet but that can change within the blink of an eye. The boy presses close to her side, like she’s the closest thing to comfort he can find in this place.

Shizuo clears his throat. “Welcome to Septuaginta,” he says. “I am Shizuo, your game

master for today. This is my assistant, Izaya.”

The woman gives him a polite but confused smile. “I’m sorry, game master? Septua...what? I’m afraid I don’t know- Look, I don’t know where we are, but I’ve got a meeting soon and I have to hurry. Is there any way I can leave this place?”

Shizuo smiles apologetically. “I’m sorry, but you’ll have to stay here until you’ve played a game.”

“What kind of game? Why?”

Shizuo nods towards the dark blue button that’s sitting on the bar counter. It appeared when neither of them were looking, like everything in this place does. “If you press this, it will decide a game for you.” He doesn’t answer the second question on purpose and even though Izaya is standing behind him, he can feel his dry smile.

The woman looks sceptical and Shizuo prepares for a speech to convince her to stay here - if nothing else - but then the boy surprises him by stepping forward and pushing the dark blue plastic. When he notices the woman’s stare, he shrugs. “I just wanna go home already.”

Behind the bar, the walls rumble and a board with nine blinking fields appears. The roulette spins, spins, spins, and finally one of the squares lights up.

“You’ll be playing Pool,” Shizuo announces. “Specifically, Eight-ball.” The room around him crunches and gnashes and forms the according table in its middle, complete with the equipment in white and dark blue. It looks elegant. It looks expensive. To someone who has no idea what’s going on, it’s probably terrifying.

Shizuo steps closer to the table and hands them the long white staffs. They take them with some reluctance. “Do you know how to play?”

They both shake their heads. 

He sighs. He expected that. “Eight-ball is a game with the goal to pocket as many of the colored balls with the white ball as possible. After hitting the white ball, at least one of the balls has to touch the side bands or get pocketed. It’s forbidden to touch the balls with anything else than the cue sticks - the staffs you’re holding - and if a ball leaves the table, you get disqualified. Both you will have balls of your own color that you’ll be trying to pocket, before you have to pocket the black ball. Playing the black ball before you have pocketed all of your own balls or pocketing your opponent’s balls counts as a breach of rules as well. Anyone who breaks the rules will be automatically disqualified and therefore be the loser.” He looks at them. “Any questions?”

The woman raises her hand. “What happens if I lose?”

Of course. It’s the question they all ask, sooner or later. “I’m sorry, but I can’t tell you this yet. You’ll just have to wait and see for yourself.” He takes a look at Izaya, who watches the scene with an amused smile. That bastard.

“I don’t have any choice but to play, do I?”

Shizuo shakes his head.

She sighs. “Fine then. I just have to win, right? Will you let me out of here then?”

In a way he will, so he nods. “If you win.”

“If I win.” To her, it seems like she already made up her mind about what will happen. Win the game, leave the place. Don’t care about what happens to the boy. “Okay, I agree. What now?”

Shizuo looks at the boy. “What about you?”

He receives a shrug as an answer. “I have to play, right? There’s not really another way.”

They step towards the table. On dark blue felt lay sixteen spheres: eight blue, eight red, translucent like glass and filled with floating symbols that seem to shift and change as Shizuo watches them. Next to them floats something that resembles a black hole more than anything else. And, of course, the white ball - it looks just as fragile as the other ones, but instead of letters and numbers, in its inside floats a miniature solar system. It’s a sight he has watched thousands of times, and yet Shizuo can’t help but be mesmerized by the tiny planets circulating around a glistening white sun.

He turns back to the guests. Both have taken their positions on opposite sides of the table; the boy hesitant, the woman calm, like she’s already planning her first move. “If you would please choose your colors now.”

“I’ll take red,” the woman says without hesitating. It’s only after a glance to the boy that she adds, “if that’s alright.”

The boy nods. He doesn’t seem to are all that much about colors. “I’ll take blue, then.”

She seems to take it as a start sign because a moment later, she walks around the table and puts her queue on the table like there’s no doubt that she will be the one to begin. Her queue hits the white sphere with a _clack_ and one of the balls tumbles into the holes at the border of the table. A smile spreads on her face.

Then it’s the boy’s turn. His movements are clumsy in comparison to hers and the white sphere rolls across the table without hitting anything. He looks away and bites his lower lip, disappointment written across his face.

He scores in the second round but not in the one after that, or the one after _that_. What was disappointment at first slowly shifts into anxiety and, finally, fear. Shizuo can see it in his eyes, can see it in the way they flicker over the table again and again.

It’s during their fourth turn that it happens. The woman, who scored every time so far, is confidently putting her queue next to the white sphere and is about to hit it when she abruptly flinches. The queue falls from her hands and onto the table; her face turns white as if she’s seen a ghost. 

It only lasts a moment, but it’s enough to make Izaya shift his expression from bored to excited, watching carefully as the woman clasps her chest and tries to calm herself down with deep breaths.

“Everything alright?” Shizuo asks, though he knows exactly what is wrong. Returning memories can be violent, and they can take a huge toll on you. 

“I’m alright,” she gasps. She takes a deep breath and straightens her back. “Nothing for you to worry about.” She takes the queue into her hands again, shaking, but surprisingly, she still hits. Two red balls remain. Seven blue ones. 

The game drags on. The woman tries to fight against the panic response her body gives her, playing with as much countenance as she’s able to, but her hands are still shaking and she misses three times in a row. The boy is doing his best, planning and calculating every single one of his moves, but he’s only a nine-year-old. His skills are nothing compared to that of a grown adult. When he closes his eyes and pulls a face like he’s about to start crying, Shizuo knows that his memories, too, have started to return. Soon, they would both remember their deaths.

Not much time left.

It takes them seventeen more minutes before the game slowly comes to a close. The woman is only missing the black sphere while the boy still hasn’t hit a single one since the beginning. If Shizuo doesn’t do something, the woman will win, with no room for Shizuo to judge her true character. 

He reaches into his pocket and gets the thing he didn’t want to use until now - shaped almost like a seashell and with a button at the upper end. Shizuo hesitates for a moment, then pushes it.

The black sphere the woman was about to hit rolls away just as she makes her move. The white ball tumbles across the table without hitting anything, before disappearing in one of the black holes on the sidelines. Izaya looks at Shizuo, eyes glittering in amusement like he knows what just happened.

In a single moment, the expression of the woman changes completely. Gone is the confident glow in her eyes - now her teeth are clenched and her eyes widened in disbelief. She knows what this means.

Shizuo takes a step closer and examines the black sphere. Instead of reflecting the light, it seems to swallow it all up; a black hole without a bottom. “It seems like this got you disqualified, ma’am,” he says and tries to sound neutral. “I’m very sorry.”

Izaya quietly laughs.

“No-” the woman says. “No, that can’t- That was an _accident_ , something happened to the staff, believe me!” Her eyes grow wide and her expression shifts from fear to anger. She takes a step forward. “Let me have another chance.”

Shizuo still studies the black sphere. “I’m sorry, but that’s not possible.”

“This can’t be- _Give me another chance!_ ” She takes a step forward, hand raised like she’s going to hit Shizuo, but before she can do anything, Izaya’s fingers curl around her wrist, stopping her from moving.

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you,” he purrs. He’s enjoying it - of course he is. “That guy might look like a regular person, but I can guarantee you that he’s an absolute monster. You don’t want to get on his bad side.” His eyes stare right at Shizuo, a glittering challenge. 

The woman opens her mouth like she wants to say something but instead of answering, her eyes abruptly roll back in their sockets. She abruptly breaks down, falling to the ground if Izaya didn’t catch her. “What-”

It’s the memories, it has to be the memories that make her stare against the ceiling motionlessly like she’s in a dream. “That can’t be,” she says, confusion layered thick into her voice. “I was on my way to the meeting. And then-”

She turns to Shizuo and her eyes become clear and sharp again. “Tell me what is going on. Right now.”

“I’m sorry, but I’m afraid I still can’t do that.”

She tries to shake Izaya’s grip with abrupt motions and, with unexpected strength, she breaks free and starts running - not towards Shizuo, however, but to the boy who is still standing where he was before, frozen in shock. She clutches his shoulder like he’s a lifeline. “Tell me what’s going on, or I’ll hurt him!”

Izaya whistles. The boy stares at her, trembling. Shizuo takes a deep breath.

“Don’t do that,” he says. 

“You can’t tell me what to do! You have ten seconds, or I’ll- or I’ll-”

Shizuo takes one step closer towards her. “Don’t do that,” he repeats in a low voice and ignores the way that her fingers grip the boy’s shoulder tighter, the way that he yelps out in pain. “Or I’ll get angry.”

She stares at him, completely unafraid. Adrenaline must have taken over because she refuses to step back when Shizuo takes another step. “Stop! Stay where you are!”

A last step and before she can react, Shizuo flicks against her forehead. A dark blue light spreads over her face, her eyes close and she drops to the floor. The boy takes a few hectic steps from Shizuo, who lifts his hands.

“Don’t worry, I’m not gonna hurt you.” He kneels down so he’s on eye level with him. “Hey kid, you remember what happened, right? You remember that you’re dead.”

The boy nods.

“This is a place to find out whether humans belong into heaven or into hell,” Shizuo explains, trying to talk as quiet as possible. He just wants the kid to calm down. As reassurance, he adds, “Don’t worry. You won’t go to hell.”

“Will I be able to meet my mom and dad again?”

Shizuo sighs and closes his eyes. They didn’t seem like bad people from what he can read of the boy’s memories but then again, they were assigned to another Arbiter. Who knows where they would end up. 

“I’m sure you’ll see them again eventually,” he still says, because he’s terrible at telling people the truth, and the boy’s eyes light up. 

“Okay then,” he says. “Can I go to them now?”

Shizuo picks up the unconscious woman’s body and together they make their way to the elevators. He puts the woman in one of them and nods over to the other cabin. “You gotta stand in there.”

The boy wordlessly follows his instructions. He looks happier than he did the entire time he spent here - Shizuo hopes from the bottom of his heart that he’ll be able to see his parents again. He deserves it. 

“Goodbye, then.” Shizuo steps back and presses the button. “Take care.”

The elevator doors close and a minute later, both of them are gone, hours before Shizuo realizes that he never asked for the boy’s name. A devil’s grimace and a smiling face stare down on Shizuo, who turns around wordlessly and walks back to the bar. Izaya waits all but ten seconds before his smile turns sharp.

“Sometimes I ask myself if you’re even able to feel emotions.”

Completely disregarding every resolution he had in regards to Izaya, Shizuo stops and turns around. “What?” he asks, more confused than actually angry. How would it be possibly to live without emotions? Would that even be called a life?

“Well, you did send that poor woman to hell pretty mercilessly. Not exactly an example for vibrant emotions, don’t you think?”

“Stop being more ridiculous than you already are.” Shizuo should have known better than to think that Izaya would say something sensible for once. “Of course arbiters have emotions. If anything, you’re the mad one here.”

Izaya’s grin widens. “Oh, but Shizu-chan. Wouldn’t it only be half as fun otherwise?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> a filler-ish chapter before the actual plot begins but don't worry - we're getting there! chapters 4 and 5 have already been written, so expect two or three updates next week :)


	4. quartus

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> a bar, a drink, a conversation.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey hey! somewhat late, but here's the promised chapter 4, together with good news: i'll be publishing this fic every friday from now on! so no more infrequent updates hopefully haha
> 
> enjoy!

Days go by and, by some terrible, unseen twist of fate, Shizuo gets used to Izaya’s presence.

Look. It’s still not like he _wants_ Izaya to be there. If he had the choice, he’d rather carry out that judgement today than tomorrow, just to get it over with, and he wouldn’t exactly miss Izaya either - well, maybe it’s nice to have some company for once, but that still doesn’t mean that he’ll miss Izaya. Not with Izaya being, well, _Izaya_.

But still, Shizuo finds himself minding Izaya’s presence less and less every day. After a week of judgements that went smoother than Shizuo would have expected, he stops monitoring Izaya’s every move and Izaya, in return, stops annoying Shizuo at every chance he gets. Slowly, they settle into a weird form of coexistence, where neither of them can quite stand each other, but they still try their best to accommodate.

Tonight has them at the bar in the center of the Observatory once again: Shizuo behind the counter, washing the dishes he didn’t put in the dishwasher, and Izaya on one of the bar stools, arms on its backrest, watching him with a curious glint in his eyes.

“So determined, Shizu-chan. You’re _such_ a good housewife.”

Shizuo, almost used to the casual insults, only threatens to murder him this time around.

At some point, however, Izaya gets bored. This is something that happens a lot, when there aren’t any trials happening, but unlike Shizuo, who has learned to get rid of boredom by doing the work that needs to be done around the Observatory, Izaya has no intention of doing any chores whatsoever. Therefore, the only thing that’s left is to annoy Shizuo.

“Shizu-chan,” he says, words not quite a drawl but slow enough for Shizuo to know that this isn’t going to be an enjoyable conversation. “You know, considering that you’re a barkeeper, you really make actual drinks too rarely.”

Shizuo stops to look at Izaya. “You do know that this is mostly a cover, right?” he asks. “Besides, I make plenty of drinks for guests.”

“Yeah, but they don’t count. You should make some drinks for us, don’t you think.”

Shizuo sighs, but- there’s nothing absurd about that request, actually. And he’s done with what he wanted to do anyway. No harm in doing what Izaya wants for once.

Izaya watches him gleefully as he takes the shaker from the top shelf. “One drink, alright? I’m not going to waste expensive alcohol on someone who wouldn’t even appreciate it.”

“Who says I wouldn’t appreciate it?” Izaya asks. Shizuo mixes, fills, and sets the martini glass down in front of Izaya. It’s filled with a glittering golden alcohol that Shizuo is sure Izaya has no idea what it is and does it matter, anyway? It’s a bar beyond life and death. Nothing here is quite like the humans know it.

Izaya, to his surprise, gets drunk quite easily. Well, not exactly _drunk_ \- but twenty minutes in and his cheeks are slightly flushed and there’s a glitter to his eyes that wasn’t there before. Drunk Izaya also asks about things, more than sober Izaya does, who simply accepts truths he can’t place. His fingers trail over the gemstones embedded in the bar counter’s dark wood.

“Those look nice,” he says and pokes one of them. “What are they? Don’t tell me they’re only here for aesthetic.”

Shizuo hesitates. “You’re just going to make fun of me.”

Izaya gasps and puts a hand to his chest. “Shizu-chan, I would _never_.”

“Sure you wouldn’t.” Shizuo glares at Izaya who looks at him with innocent eyes, but finally sighs and returns to polishing glasses. “Those are memories,” he finally says. “Pretty much all that’s left from the people who visited this bar.”

“Oh?”

“Arbiter always receive the memories of their guests, but from time to time, I ask them to send me the memories in this form as well,” Shizuo explains. “It helps me stay grounded, in a way-” unintentionally honest tonight, aren’t we- “and most Arbiters do something like this. There’s a guy on the 15th floor who collects the dolls of his guests.”

Izaya stays silent for a while, fingertips barely touching the counter and eyes fixated on the faintly glowing gems.

“What,” Shizuo asks, “no sarcastic response this time?”

Izaya’s eyes are dark. He sets his glass down and looks at Shizuo with something that might almost be an actual smile. “No, I’m actually and genuinely interested in this. Keep going.”

“I really would have thought that you wouldn't miss a single opportunity to make fun of me.”

-

“How little you think of me, Shizu-chan. Can’t I be interested about something too?”

Shizuo blinks, but doesn’t question it either. He touches one of the gems - a dark green one, embedded into the dark wood a few centimeters away from where Izaya’s hand is resting. “This one was an opera singer,” he starts. “It was a difficult decision, but she got reincarnated in the end. She was so egoistic, but during her trial, she sang and it was the most beautiful thing I’ve ever heard.” It still sends chills down Shizuo’s spine, every time he thinks about it.

One of the corners of Izaya’s mouth tilts upwards. “Sappy.”

“Say anything else and I won’t tell you anything at all.”

“Oh no, please continue.” Izaya points at a large dark blue gem, hidden so deep in the side of the bar that it’s almost not visible at all anymore. “What about this one?”

“This one was a murderer.”

Izaya raises his eyebrows. “How very amoral of you.”

“Oh shut up. I’m simply collecting the souls of people that left an impression.” Shizuo sets down the glass he was polishing into the cupboard. It makes a clinking sound and he closes the cupboard.

Izaya hums, lost somewhere in his own thoughts. “Maybe we’re not that different, Shizu-chan,” he says with that smile he only ever uses when he wants to make Shizuo angry. But his voice is genuine. “Your moral compass doesn’t seem to be exactly working either.”

Shizuo wants to respond something, anything, to that, but finds himself at loss of words. Izaya was right, after all. And Shizuo doesn’t even mind, that in this place beyond everything living, the evil receive the same treatment as the good.

“But it’s remarkable,” Izaya continues, quieter, like he doesn’t want his own voice to be heard. 

“What?”

“Even in a place like this, you gave your life a meaning.” Izaya tilts his head and salutes Shizuo with his glass before taking his last sip. “That’s quite impressive. I wouldn’t have expected as much, if I’m honest.”

Suddenly, Shizuo can’t help but think about how much about Izaya he doesn’t know. Doesn’t know yet. How much about Izaya Izaya himself might not know. There are other sides to Izaya than sneering sarcasm and the scheming mastermind he so loves to paint himself as. This is something Shizuo could almost get used to.

Shizuo silently watches Izaya until he gets a curious glance and a small smile as a reward. “What?”

“I actually don’t hate you right now.”

“What a coincidence.” Izaya laughs darkly, with soft eyes and a smile pulling at his lips. He looks softer like this. More human. Shizuo likes it. “I actually don’t hate you right now either.”


	5. quintus

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> new guests arrive.

_ People die like flies. _ It’s usually busy in Septuaginta, but Shizuo is only now slowly starting to realize what Celty meant by this. Today’s guests - the first ones, anyway, because Shizuo isn’t sure how many more will come after this - are two young girls in Japanese school uniforms. They can’t be older than sixteen or seventeen and haven’t left each other’s sides ever since they arrived. Right now they’re sitting at a low table, waiting for Shizuo to join them for a round of poker. 

He’s about to walk over when a smooth voice next to him says, “She’s gonna be reincarnated. And the other one you’ll send to the Void.”

Of course. Izaya hasn’t magically disappeared over night - right now he’s leaning against the bar and watches the girls curiously. He’s acting as if he knows all the secrets to the universe and then some. 

Shizuo frowns. “Which one?”

“This one is going to be reincarnated.” Izaya points at the chubby girl with the badly dyed red hair. “And that one - void.” He nods to the scrawny, black-haired one. Shizuo takes his hand and pushes it down.

  
“Put the hand down before they can see you,” he hisses. “And how would you even know that?”

Izaya shrugs. “Just a feeling.”

“Tch.” Shizuo lets go of Izaya’s hand and walks over to the girls. “At least make yourself useful for once.” He joins the girls at the table. Izaya pulls up another chair and four they are. Enough for a proper round of poker.

“Do you both know how to play?”

They nod. The redhead seems to wants to say something, but her friend sends her a warning look. Shizuo wonders what they were talking about.

A deck of cards is already on the table, neatly arranged into a single stack. Shizuo picks them up and shuffles while Izaya pushes empty bowls to each player. 

Shizuo hands everyone their cards. “We will be using life years as a wager,” he says and watches as the expressions of the others slowly change.

Izaya raises his eyebrows and watches amusedly as the redhead makes a choked sound and presses a hand to her mouth. The girl with the black hair seems to be the only one who doesn’t seem fazed in the slightest. “Remember what we talked about, Maiko.”

“Maiko,” Izaya repeats. “A pretty name.” He turns to the black haired one. “What’s yours?”

She hesitates before answering. “Sayoko.”

Shizuo would never say it, but he’s almost thankful that he can put a name to the face now. Getting to learn the names of his guests is a rare gift - most people are too protective to give them out freely. They won’t give them to strangers in scary bars who end their life with the press of a button.

“Well, then. Shall we start?” The last question is directed at Shizuo, who lifts a hand. In the previously empty bowls appear marbles - dark blue for the girls, and numbered with “1”. Shizuo’s marbles are white like bleached bones. Fascinated, he realizes that Izaya’s marbles aren’t blue like they’re supposed to be but a saturated violet, so dark that it’s almost black. Nobody seems to realize it, but there are a lot more marbles in Maiko’s pool than there are in Sayoko’s.

“This is real, isn’t it?” Maiko asks quietly. She seems to be talking more to herself than to anyone else, and she rolls one of the marbles between her fingers in a mixture of fear and fascination.

“It is,” Shizuo still feels the need to confirm. She bites on her bottom lip and drops the marble back into the pool. “You can now take a look at your cards.”

They all pick them up at the same time - Izaya with his perfect poker face, of course, Maiko trying to keep her face straight, Sayoko studying her cards with cold interest. Shizuo glances at his own cards. Three fives, a queen, a ten. Nothing to win a game with if the cards get laid down on the table, but Shizuo isn’t here to win. He has other objectives.

“Can we start?” he asks. Izaya hums, plucks a marble out of his bowl and gives it a slight push into the middle. Maiko nods and puts in one marble of her own. “I call,” she says and looks at Sayoko, who silently imitates her. To Shizuo’s surprise, her face has darkened significantly. Shizuo calls with a single marble as well - one that gets replaced by a new one the instant it leaves the bowl.

The round is over and Shizuo clears his throat. “Does anyone want to change their hand?”

In an instant, Sayoko takes three new cards from the stack without caring for the proper order of things. But whatever she sees apparently doesn’t satisfy her because despite her best efforts, the scowl doesn’t leave her face.

The next round starts and Izaya raises his wager to three dark purple marbles, glittering in the light. The missing marbles in each of the bowls, barely visible in the first round, starts to make itself noticeable by now, when more and more marbles wander into the middle of the table and Shizuo raises his wager to four marbles. Sayoko’s pool is missing more and more direly needed marbles by now - even though she changes cards at every given chance, fate doesn’t seem to favor her. Shizuo doesn’t even need to manipulate the cards to make sure that she cracks more and more under the building pressure.

_ And the other one you’ll send to the void _ , Izaya’s voice resonates in his mind. Shizuo forces himself to ignore it. Izaya knows nothing.

And when Maiko raises her wager to five marbles, Sayoko finally breaks. The moment the marbles hit the table, Sayoko grabs Maiko’s arm hard enough to force a painful yelp out of her. Her nails are digging into Maiko’s flesh. “Take that back!” she hisses. “I can’t pay that much,  _ take that back _ !”

“I can’t do that, it’s against the rules!” Maiko tries to argue, but if anything, it only makes Sayoko more furious. Or more desperate.

“I don’t care! Take those marbles back.” She shakes Maiko’s arm roughly until her fingers leave red marks on Maiko’s skin. “Just do it!”

“I’m afraid your friend can’t do that,” Shizuo says. “It’s against the rules. You’ll have to live with the consequences, I’m sorry.”

Sayoko lets go of Maiko’s arm as if she’s been burned. “That fat piece of shit isn’t my friend,” she says coarsely and ignores the way that Maiko’s eyes widen. She pushes her wager into the middle of the table like she’s trying to make a last, spiteful stand. In comparison to everyone else’s pools, hers is almost empty.

Izaya stares at Shizuo with a triumphant grin -  _ See? I told you so _ \- but Shizuo won’t give him the satisfaction of un-ignoring him even for one moment. He still has a judgement to fulfill.

As expected Sayoko doesn’t raise the wager, just keeps up with Maiko’s five marbles. Her hands clench around the cards when she watches as Shizuo pushes his own five marbles into the middle. He could raise and break Sayoko’s spirit once and for all, but he has a feeling that someone else will play that role for him.

And as expected, Izaya grins widely, makes eye contact with Sayoko and pushes ten violet marbles into the middle.

That’s her breaking point. She abruptly stands up and slams both hands flat on the table. Her eyes are wide with panic and anger. Her hands are shaking. “That’s just a rigged game!” she yells. “It’s all been decided from the start, hasn’t it? You gave Maiko so much more marbles than you gave me, just because you wanted to watch me lose!”

Sayoko harshly grabs Maiko’s bowl and starts filling the remaining marbles into her own. Maiko, too frozen in shock to stop her, just makes a strangled noise. “Stop-”

“Come on, give me some of yours! It’s unfair that you have so much more, the least you could do is give me a few! You don’t deserve them anyway!”

Maiko’s half-hearted attempt to pull Sayoko’s hands away from the marbles just ends in Sayoko slapping her hand away with full force. “Don’t touch me! You’re working together with those guys, right?” She points at Shizuo and Izaya. Izaya is watching whatever is happening with a sharp smile.

“That’s not true. I came here together with you. You know that.”

Maiko’s face is pleading, but Sayoko must have talked herself into rage. “You know what? I never liked you anyway. From our first day at school, you were just that one annoying kid that nobody wanted to become friends with. You should be glad I decided to keep you around, anyway. I waited for the moment where you’d finally become useful for once, and what do you do? You backstab me the first chance you get. I shouldn’t have expected anything else from you.”

Maiko bites her lower lip to keep it from trembling. There are tears in her eyes. “Please stop. That doesn’t matter now, does it? Nothing of this matters now. Believe me. We’re-”

“Nothing of this is supposed to matter, now that it’s convenient for you?” Sayoko’s eyes are wide in badly suppressed fury. “ _ You _ don’t to decide when something is important and when it isn’t. You’re the reason everything is the way it is right now! Don’t tell me that-” She lifts her hand in a distinct motion. Maiko flinches.

“That’s enough.” Shizuo catches Sayoko’s hand before she can hit Maiko. “Stop now, or this will have consequences for you.”

When Shizuo speaks, there’s an immediate shift in Sayoko’s behaviour. Tears fill her eyes and she looks like she’s only a word away from breaking down completely. “I’m sorry! I did what you wanted me to, please don’t do anything to me. I gave my best, it’s not my fault…”

Shizuo watches her without any indication of emotion on his face, even though every body in his bone screams to punch somethingl. Abusive friends, or partners, or family members - he’s had them all here, guests in his bar. They’re all the same in the end.

He lets go of Sayoko’s arm. “Both of you. Follow me now, please.”

They walk to the elevators in silence. Halfway there, Sayoko suddenly stops dead in her tracks. “ _ No _ . That can’t be.”

“What’s going on?” Shizuo asks, though he has a very good guess. 

“She finally remembered why she’s here,” Izaya says, somewhere in the corner of Shizuo’s field of vision. “Took her a while.”

“We’re dead, aren’t we?” That’s Maiko speaking, this time, who calmed down enough to speak again, though her words are still clouded by sobs. “That’s why we’re here.”

“Correct. I’m sorry for not telling you earlier.” He refuses to feel any pity for Maiko. It wouldn’t change a thing. “Please follow me now.”

Neither of them speaks another word until both stand in their respective elevator cabins. Sayoko has her arms wrapped around herself, shaking ever-so-slightly, and Maiko just stands there. Maybe she’s waiting for all of it to be over. She seems apathetic and Shizuo feels a sting in his chest at the sight, but no- He won’t feel sorry for her. He won’t.

“Well then… Goodbye. Take care.” Shizuo bows before the two of them. Sayoko ignores him, but Maiko gives him a small smile before the doors close. A rumbling, low and menacing, and then it’s over. Shizuo sighs and turns away.

“That was depressing,” Izaya offers as they make their way back to the bar. Shizuo desperately needs a cigarette right now. He needs to forget some things before the next guests arrive. “This means I won our little bet, though.”

“What bet?” Shizuo pulls a package from his breast pocket and lights himself a cigarette. “Those trials aren’t anything you can bet on.”

“Or maybe they are? Who knows.”

Shizuo doesn’t bother to reply. “How did you even know which one would be sent where? You didn’t even receive their memories beforehand.”

Izaya’s eyes glitter darkly. “Maybe I just have a good eye for humans,” he says. “Or maybe I’ve spent too much time with you. Will we ever know?”

And then, like a puppet with his strings cut, he collapses.

For a split second, Shizuo thinks that it’s another one of Izaya’s bad jokes. But Izaya’s body on the floor doesn’t move after a second, or two, or five, and panic starts to build in Shizuo’s chest. “Izaya? Hey, Izaya. _Izaya._ _Say something_.”

Slowly, Izaya’s eyes flutter open. “Shizu-chan. Sorry for the inconvenience.”

  
“What in the world just happened?”

“I-” Izaya smiles grimly and clasps onto Shizuo’s forearm in search for something to hold onto before he sits up- “remembered something from before. My past. Must have had something to do with what I said, I don’t know. Help me stand up, come on. This floor is really uncomfortable.”

Shizuo offers his arm as support all the way from where Izaya collapsed to one of the low canapées in a corner of the observatory. Izaya sighs as he lies down, eyes closed, hand over his eyes. With his hair falling into his face like that, he looks five years younger.

Shizuo takes a deep drag of his cigarette and pulls over a chair to sit next the canapée. He hesitates before asking, “Do you- want to talk about it?”

He half expects Izaya to make a snarky remark and reject his offer. But to his surprise, Izaya just sighs. Without opening his eyes, he says, “It’s just snippets. Bits and pieces here and there, rarely anything coherent. My head hurts like hell, though.”

Shizuo is already half on his way up to get some ice, when Izaya makes a waving motion with his hand. “Stay, Shizu-chan. Keep me some company. Believe it or not, I don’t really want to be alone right now.”

Shizuo sits back down. This close, he can see the way Izaya’s brows are furrowed in pain and how his entire body seems tense. If this is just a headache, it’s the worst one Shizuo has ever seen.

“If it interests you, I was an information broker before my death,” Izaya says at some point, when Shizuo was starting to think that he had fallen asleep. “Fitting, isn’t it?”

“Very.”

Izay laughs hoarsely. “Thought so.”

His eyes are still closed and Shizuo takes that as a chance to study Izaya. Like that, he seems vulnerable like Shizuo has never seen him before. It makes Shizuo think. Now that Izaya got parts of his memories back, the others would soon follow. And at some point, Shizuo would be forced to make a decision.

  
_ When it’s all said and done - will I really send Izaya into the void? _


	6. interlude i.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> a shorter chapter this time, and from another perspective!

When Izaya wakes up, it is to silence. 

For the first few moments, he doesn’t know where he is. He’s not in the bed he got used to in the last few days - the mattress isn’t as hard as whatever he’s lying on, and the white bedsheets are missing. But then he turns his head and sees dark blue velvet, and he remembers. The headache, the collapse, and the couch. He remembers _stay_ and pulls a face at how melodramatic he was. 

Someone - it doesn’t take a lot to realize who - has folded a blanket over him. It’s made of wool and scratches where it touches Izaya’s skin, but it’s warm and more comfortable than it looks. Izaya would never admit it, but he is thankful for the comfort it provides. 

Initially, he thinks that Shizuo has left, and that Izaya is all alone. He wouldn’t mind, per se, but some part of him is still relieved when he turns his head, just a bit, and hears soft breathing and the rustling sound of pages being turned from somewhere across the room, a bit away from where the couch is standing. Soft light comes from a reading nook that definitely wasn’t there before Izaya fell asleep. It’s one of the things Izaya may never fully understand about the observatory - how it doesn’t oblige to mechanics and the physics known by mankind, but always manage to provide exactly what they needed. It’s one of the better mysteries about it.

For a brief moment, Izaya contemplates getting up and joining Shizuo in the reading nook with a ironic remark and a chance to take a look at the bookshelves. Shizuo would be annoyed that Izaya disturbed him in the quiet hours he usually has to himself, and Izaya, who specializes in causing trouble, would softly laugh at him and make fun of whatever he is reading. A conversation well-known to both of them, so familiar that it might almost feel like routine at this point. 

And yet, the air feels softer than it usually does. The silence folded across the observatory is a fragile thing, more peaceful than he would have ever expected it to be, and Izaya finds himself almost unwilling to break it. Quiet hours have their charm too, after all, and Izaya decides that he would like to keep them quiet for a bit longer. There will be time for everything else in the morning, too. 

So he curls into the blankets once more, like a particularly lazy cat, and tries to forget how scratchy the wool is, for the sake of pretending to be asleep for a bit longer. With the soft silence wrapped around them, only interrupted by the occasional rustling of paper, it’s easy to close his eyes and feel sleep pull him in once more. It’s easy to find peace in warm blankets and dreamless sleep.

Sometimes, it’s nice to deceive yourself a bit more.


	7. sextus

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry for this chapter being slightly late! i had some irl stuff going on and was pretty busy, but - here it is :)

At some point Izaya falls asleep. Shizuo, whose mind is still racing with unanswered questions, sighs, stands up and extinguishes most of the lampions until all the light left in the bar is a subtle orange glow. Like this, the observatory’s calm silence almost mimicks nighttime enough to be genuine. If this place had actual day and night instead of a constantly frozen clock, this would be Shizuo’s favorite time of the day.

He doesn’t need to sleep and he doesn’t feel like working right now, so Shizuo walks around the observatory until he finds the place where his bookshelf has decided to hide today. The observatory shifts and changes when nobody is looking, but that doesn’t change anything about the fact that some things will always stay the same, even though their appearances might alter from time to time. Today, he finds the reading nook in a distant corner of the observatory, close to the waterfall. Its soft lighting makes the water glitter golden.

When he settles in the reading chair, it finally feels like he’s able to catch an actual break. Having some time to yourself is always nice - especially if he spent most of his recent downtime with Izaya. Shizuo never knew silence could be this relaxing.

At some point, he hears soft footsteps behind him. “What are you reading?”

“You’re awake.” Shizuo closes his book and turns around. Izaya looks softer in the yellow lighting but his eyes are the same as always - studying Shizuo curiously. There’s nothing of that vulnerability from before in them and Shizuo almost begins to think that he only imagined it in the first place.

“Excellently combined, Shizuo. What was the first clue?” Izaya’s words are sharp but they are missing the edge in them that would indicate that he’s actually serious, and his words are quiet enough not to disrupt the fragile peace that hangs over the observatory at this hour. He settles into the reading chair opposite from Shizuo and leans his chin in his palm. “Again, what are you reading?”

Shizuo wordlessly raises the book, fully knowing that the simple black cover won’t tell anything about the contents. He doesn’t think that the novel ever existed in the human word - if it does, he never heard of it. 

Izaya leans forward to take a look at the title on the cover. “ _The Orchid_ ,” he reads out loud. “Sounds like a bad romance novel. Why am I not surprised?”

“Mafia, actually,” Shizuo corrects him without actually looking up from the pages, though he has given up on reading a while ago. “It’s about an ex-hitman who tries to leave his former life behind and gets pulled back into a scheme to kill the don. It’s entertaining, I guess.”

“Mafia, huh.” If Izaya is in any way moved, he doesn’t show it. “Unsurprising that Shizu-chan likes to read trashy action novels.”

Shizuo narrows his eyes in an attempt not to get riled by Izaya’s words. It only half works. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Nothing.” Izaya smiles at him and Shizuo turns back to his novel. It’s too early for this. But then Izaya asks, “Doesn’t it make you miss it?” and he looks back up.

“Huh?”

“You know.” Izaya makes a vague motion with his hand. “Being alive. Life before death, all that. Doesn’t reading stuff like that just make you depressed after a while?”

Shizuo shrugs. “It’s not like I remember my life on earth. I don’t really have any connection to being alive, other than the people who come here.” Though Izaya, in some way, is right - sometimes when Shizuo reads a novel or looks at the memories of his guests, he feels a sting of something he thinks might be envy. He doesn’t remember anything out of those walls, but sometimes he wishes he would. 

Izaya looks at him, almost surprised. “You don’t remember anything?”

He shakes his head. “Not from before I became an arbiter, no.” Izaya keeps looking at him, so Shizuo adds with a sigh, “Every arbiter was once a human being, who died and came here. But after you become an arbiter, your memories get deleted. It’s to make sure that you stay here.”

“What a bitter fate.” Izaya laughs quietly, but there’s something else there. Shizuo hopes that he’s misinterpreting it; that the look in his eyes isn’t pity.

“It’s not too bad,” he argues. “Better than some other options.”

“The void?” Izaya asks.

“For example.” Shizuo can think of a few other examples, none of which he wants to elaborate on right now, so he falls silent. Izaya seems to catch the hint because he, in an astonishing show of empathy, doesn’t keep asking. 

For a while it stays silent. Shizuo almost contemplates returning to his book when Izaya says, “It’s good to know that there’s a reading nook here. Might relieve the boredom a bit.” Shizuo, who refuses to believe that Izaya ever gets bored, looks at him doubtfully. Izaya snickers and adds, “Any other secrets I should know about, now that I’m going to stay here for a while?”

Shizuo feels tense. “You’re not gonna stay here for a longer time,” he says, and he means it. The question that has been gnawing on his mind ever since yesterday returns with full force. _Will I send Izaya to the void when his time comes?_

He still hasn’t found an answer.

Izaya just looks at him. Something curls his lips, not quite big enough to be called a smile. “Until now, you haven’t exactly tried to kick me out. I don’t think you’ll change your mind now.”

Silence, in which Shizuo tries to bring the thought spinning in his head into order. Then he takes a deep breath. “There’s a lever hidden in the bar,” he says, a wordless capitulation. “If you pull it, a staircase leads you into a hidden wine cellar. The stairs are slippy, so try not to fall.”

This time, Izaya definitely smiles.

“The piano will teach you to play if it likes you. Press a key and see what happens,” Shizuo adds. “And the Observatory will add things, if you need them. It never stays the same.”

“Thank you.” The worst part is that Izaya sounds sincere about it - like Shizuo told him about something more important than the Observatory’s tricks. Maybe he did.

Izaya annoys Shizuo for some more until at some point, he leaves to get breakfast. Accompanied by the clatter of plates and cutlery in the background, Shizuo turns back to his novel and gets a few more pages before his ears start ringing - the first sign of new memories arriving.

He sighs and stands up, carefully putting the book back into the shelf where he took it from. He hopes it will still be there tomorrow night - he liked it. But the memories are an obvious sign that his short break is over, and work is calling, like it or not. 

Izaya must have noticed, because he sets down his plate onto the counter and walks over. “So who is it this time?” he asks.

Shizuo keeps silent while the memories flood his mind. He tries to sort them, categorize them somehow like he usually does, but the stream doesn’t end after a minute, or two, or three. Signs of a long life, and a life well lived. 

After what feels like an eternity, the memories fade and Shizuo is able to speak again. “An old married couple,” he says, still trying to make sense of the memories buzzing around in his head. “They’ve been married for a while, and died at the same time. Pretty much as peaceful as it gets.”

“How sweet.” But Izaya lleaves it at that. Maybe he, just like Shizuo, is somewhat glad about the guests. Shizuo doesn’t know if he’d have been able to deal with a murderer today.

The piano plays a soft melody, ghost fingers moving over ghost keys, when the elevator doors hiss and two elderly people step out. Shizuo immediately recognizes them as the people from his memories - a man in his eighties and a woman around the same age who holds onto his arm. They both look around curiously.

Shizuo clears his throat and bows. “Good evening. Welcome to Septuaginta.”

The woman looks at him like she has only now realized that there’s another person in the room. “Good evening, young man. May I ask who you are?”

Friendly guests - _finally_. It’s been a while since Shizuo has had those here. “I’m Shizuo, your host for today,” he replies. “This is my assistant, Izaya. Would you do us the favor and play a game with us?”

They exchange a look that seems to convey an entire unspoken conversation. Finally, the man shrugs and looks back at Shizuo. “Why not? It’s not like we don’t have the time, I suppose that we can’t exactly leave until we do.”

 _That’s right_ , Shizuo thinks. He smiles and sets the red button that seems so misplaced in the blue observatory down on the bar counter. “Thank you. Would you please be so kind and press the button?”

It’s the woman who takes the first step forward, letting go of her husband’s arm, and puts her hand on it. The Observatory rumbles and the roulette board spins until it settles on one of the glowing squares.

“Bowling,” she reads out loud and turns to her husband with a laugh that’s half amused and half horrified. “My goodness, I don’t think I know how to play.”

He smiles sweetly and pats her arm in condolence. “Me neither, darling. Me neither.”

When Shizuo glances to his side, Izaya’s shoulders are shaking with suppressed laughter. It’s a good look on him.


	8. septimus

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> a last breather chapter!

They settle in eventually. Once both guests have understood the basic rules and how to throw a ball without _completely_ missing the pins, they aren’t as bad at the game as Shizuo originally thought they would be. Even Izaya seems to enjoy their company to some extent, though he leaves the game after a few minutes in favor of making himself some of the expensive tea Shizuo keeps hidden away in a cupboard in the bar.

When it’s his wife’s turn again, the man gives her an encouraging thumbs-up before walking up to Shizuo. The look in his eyes promises nothing good.

“So, young man,” he says. His voice is serious but the gentle smile stays on his face when he looks around the observatory, inspecting the dark glass ceiling and the small waterfall with careful attention. “I know you aren’t allowed to tell us about this, but what brings you to a place like this?” 

Shizuo shrugs and grimaces apologetically. “I can’t tell you this either. I’m really sorry.”

“Oh.” The man doesn’t look too disappointed by it. “Alright then. But doesn’t it get lonely here?”

That makes Shizuo hesitate. _Does it?_ He is so used to being an arbiter, to watching the people he’s talking to change every day, that he hasn’t thought about the concept of _loneliness_ in a long time. Also-

“I’m not alone,” he argues. “People come and go all the time.” With a glance to the bar he adds, “And I have an assistant.”

“Oh, of course. Your assistant.” The man looks at Izaya curiously. “I hope he is at least nice to you?”

Shizuo huffs. “I don’t even think he likes me.”

He gets a hum in response. “I don’t think that’s true.” Another glance over to the bar. “After all, he hasn’t taken his eyes off you ever since the game started.”

That does something funny to Shizuo, who is suddenly feeling a lot of things at the same time. Mostly disbelief, because in no world would Izaya look at Shizuo just because he can. He still steals a glance at Izaya, sitting on a bar stool and watching the game over a cup of tea. His eyes are fixed on the bowling pins. He isn’t looking at Shizuo.

_Of course._

Shizuo turns back to the old man. “You must have imagined things,” he tells him. “That’s not-” _What Izaya does. He wouldn’t. He’d never._

The man smiles and tilts his head. “Young man, my eyes might be bad, but they aren’t _that_ bad yet. Anyway, I hate to leave you, but I believe it’s my turn. Wish me luck,” he adds with a laugh and walks over to the alley, where his wife hands him the bowling ball. Shizuo stays back with a million questions.

Look. Shizuo can absolutely believe Izaya watching him for a bit - a moment, maybe two, trying to figure out what he and the man are talking about. It’s in his nature, in this personality trait of him labeled _being Izaya_. Shizuo can believe that. But an entire game? Worse, an entire afternoon?

It sounds impossible to believe. Izaya doesn’t even like him, so why should he-

Shizuo tries to ignore the small voice that tells him that he knows that that’s not completely right.

He sneaks another glance at Izaya, but this time, their eyes meet. When Izaya notices that Shizuo’s looking, he raises his eyebrows and smiles. An unspoken question, but Shizuo turns away instead of answering it. 

_Fuck._

Over at the bowling alley, the game is drawing to a close. While the woman scored almost double the points her husband did, the mood is still light-hearted - when the game ends with a score of 60:30, he gratulates and gives her a kiss on the cheek that makes her beam. Then their faces turn serious as they seem to be discussing _something,_ stealing occasional glances over to Shizuo and Izaya. Shizuo has a very good idea of what they’re talking about.

Finally it’s the man who beckons Shizuo to come closer. “Please tell us the truth,” he says. “What is this place?”

He hesitates. “Did you remember something?”

“No.” The woman shakes her head. “The last thing we know is that we went to sleep in our own bed and woke up here. Which means there are three possibilities.” She counts them on her fingers as she continues, “Possibility one: We are here on our own free will and somehow forgot about the whole thing. Possibility two: you kidnapped us while we were sleeping.” She grimaces. “Please don’t tell me you did that - you seem too nice for that.”

Shizuo shakes his head, silently listening.

“Which would lead us to possibility three,” she continues, then hesitates for just a moment. Her husband puts a hand on her arm in a quiet attempt to offer her support. She takes a deep breath. “Possibility three: we are dead. This is the afterlife, and you are here to take us to the next place, whatever it may be.”

For a moment the entire observatory holds its breath. Then Shizuo looks away. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s alright.” She smiles, though her hands are shaking just the tiniest bit. “We had a good life, but we knew it eventually had to come to an end. But I’m still curious - do tell me, what happens next? Were the Christians right? The Buddhists?”

“You go to heaven or you go to hell,” a new voice says. Izaya has walked over to them, hands shoved into the pockets of his jacket. “Well - if you simplify it, at least. It’s closer related to the Taoist religion, actually, where you get reincarnated or sent into the void.” He doesn’t act like he did at the bar before, doesn’t even look at Shizuo while he talks. There’s none of that strange intensity in his eyes anymore.

“So that’s what it’s like, hm?” The man smiles like a little boy. “That’s nice. I always wondered about that.”

His wife gives him a good-natured pat on the shoulder. “You’ll see it in a moment for yourself, darling,” she scolds him before she turns her attention back to Shizuo and Izaya. “So where do we have to go now?”

Shizuo nods over to the other end of the room. “Please follow me.”

They reach the elevators without any problems. They seem to have made their peace with the elevators already, because they give each other a loving smile and step into their separate cabins - Shizuo thinks that the look in their eyes is determination. Determination to meet once more, wherever they might end up. Trusting to find each other again. 

Before the doors close, Shizuo clears his throat. “Before you go, could you tell me your names?”

If they are surprised, they don’t show it. “Of course. I’m James, and my wife is called Stephanie.”

“Thank you.” Shizuo exhales, a small smile on his lips. “I wish you a safe journey. Goodbye.”

The doors close and the elevator cabins start to move, slowly first and then with increasing speed until their rattling is only a faint noise in the distance. When it’s silent again, Shizuo turns around and walks back without a word. There’s no need to take a look at the masks to know where the two ended up.

Izaya follows him silently. Shizuo briefly thinks about asking him about what the old man said, but decides that it’s no use - Izaya wouldn’t give him an honest answer anyways. So instead, Shizuo walks over to the telephone hidden in the wall and dials a familiar number.

“Hey, Shizuo!” Shinra says when he picks up after the third ring. “Are you calling because of the usual?”

Shizuo nods, and when he realizes that Shinra can’t see him, he makes a _Mhm_ sound instead. “The gemstones should still be in your department, I think.”

“Got it.” Shinra’s voice is distorted through the aether, as if he’s holding the receiver away from his head. Knowing how busy he is, he probably is. “I’ll see what I can do.”

“Thank you.” Shizuo exhales. “Take a few breaks once in a while, alright? You need them.”

When he’s only met with hysterical laughter from Shinra, he hangs up.

“Who was that?” Izaya asks, waiting for him at the bar. He’s drinking a glass of something shiny Shizuo has never seen before.

“Shinra. He’s sending me their gemstones.” Shizuo is on his way back to the bar when a sudden headache almost splits his skull apart. He hisses and puts a hand to his forehead. “Oh no, _no, no, no_. Already?”

“New guests?” Izaya guesses and Shizuo nods while memories flood his mind. Teenagers, this time, but something is off about them - for some reason, Shizuo has a terrible feeling about this. 

“Yeah.” He sits down at the bar and puts his head in his hands. “High schoolers. They’re called Ryuugamine Mikado and Sonohara Anri.”

Izaya drops his glass.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you for reading :) and sorry for the slight delay!


End file.
